A technological motherfucker of a crash just wiped out a whole post. And it was amusing and, I like to think, just a smidge insightful. Well, I can't be arsed recreating it now. Fuck you Windows, thank God my vibrator works better than this.
That leads me to a small aside from the erased blog, as I was pondering why my last two leaving dos (from the Globe and yday's Bday/Leaving do fest) have ended with me receiving sex toys as gifts. Not that I'm complaining mind you. I love my Rampent Rabbit Deluxe with its 3 speeds, revolving metal balls, vibrating ears, laser, tea and coffee making machine and vertical take-off capacity. And my pearl handcuffs are so sexy, beautiful and fabulous and I'd coverted them for a long while. It's ironic really, seeing as I NEVER GET LAID! But at least I have the equipement when the time comes.
Ah, but I'm not worrying so much about getting laid now. After a while (a long while!) the urge lessens unless someone specatacularly hot wanders into your line of vison. But even then I'd like him to make all the effort. My lust muscles (I mean that as a metaphor for my lustful urges not... y'know...) have got lazy. When they're exercised all the time then they're eager to leap into action on any fit bit, but currently they're the equivalent of the 'before' section on a Gillian McKeith show, where some obese bloke tucks into chips and lard in front of Men & Motors while Gillian berates him for not eating mung beans and bullies him into going for a poo. Thats what my lustful urges resemble right now. A fat chav.
But I came to a very important love life decision a while back and, along with my career decision it's making me feel a little becalmed. And tomorrow I shall bore you all with the unecessary details of my love life plans (and I use those last two terms at their absolute loosest). TTFN!
Today I have: enjoyed sushi with some favourite friends, eaten a dirty chocolate truffle ice cream, seen a man wearing one green croc and one red croc- KILL IT!!!!
hahahahahaha! Funniness. Continue please.
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